We strained our ears to hear what was being said. Jane spoke in that silvery voice of hers:
"Say some more drefful things, Seraph. I jus' love to hear you."
There was a moment's silence; then, The Seraph said in his blandest tone, the one word—
"Blood!"
Jane gave a tiny, ecstatic shriek.
"Oh, go on!" she begged, "say more."
"Blood," repeated The Seraph, firmly, "Hot blood—told blood—wed blood—thick blood—thin blood—bad blood."
Again Jane squealed in fearful pleasure.
"Go on," she urged. "Worser."
Thus encouraged, The Seraph rapped out, without more ado, "Tiger blood—ephelant blood—caterpillar blood—ole witch blood"—then, after a pause, that the horror of it might sink deep in—"Baby blood!"